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What Do You Say Come Sunday?

What do you say? After all the special prayers, after all the pastoral care, your church looks to you to speak a word from the Lord on behalf of God. What will you preach on Sunday? No one at any website can, nor should, tell you what to preach. What I offer here instead is a reminder of how to think through the homiletic process theologically in order to speak a word from the Lord into your particular situation.
First of all, as is sometimes the response of clergy to socio-political issues, we dare not bury our heads in the sand, preach the lectionary's lost sheep/lost coin passage as though nothing has happened, and say nothing. The people in the pews before us are expecting us to say something of God which is what they sense is holding all of life together. No one really wants us to proffer yet another opinion such as those heard on the plethora of newscasts. We're the ones called to speak God's news in all of this tragedy.
Though the lectionary is valuable, this may be one of the Sundays when you decide to set it aside, although the Jeremiah passage and the Exodus passage certainly offer divine comment on our idolatries that have contributed to making us a terrorist target. On first glance, Psalm 51's cry for mercy may seem appropriate, but it confesses an individual sin of commission. A cry for corporate mercy from the psalms would be more appropriate. This is probably not the day to descry sin. At this point, we may be feeling a little too little and vulnerable and exhausted, all too aware that our own strength cannot save, for it has given out. So the lectionary passages are probably not appropriate at this time. You need to think and pray and discern before you go spouting off judgment from God. Though we need to point out policies we're complicit in that are oppressing people to the point where they dance in the streets over this heinous act, we need to discern the appropriate time for prophetic denunciations--maybe next week or months later, and certainly all along from time to time. But in times of crisis we need to know the power of God is something we can trust, not just revere and hope to steer clear of, but trust our lives with, provided we are willing to live humbly before the Lord.
So sift through the aftermath, assessing what you need to say in your particular place, depending upon where your people are. A pastor in New York City is confronted by more intense loss than a pastor in Wyoming, and she will need to preach comfort, the ability to trust God when all the earth is shaking. (Psalm 46 may be a good text.) Yet the pastor in Wyoming should not be fooled into thinking no one in his congregation was affected by this tragedy. At our regular chapel service at 11:30 on Tuesday morning, our seminary community gathered. We asked for prayer requests, and most of us expected about 6-10 pleas. Countless requests for loved ones poured forth like a flood that threatened to overwhelm us all. Normally stoic Presbyterians choked on tears as they held their loved ones up in prayer. We saw how interconnected we truly are, how precious and how fragile life is, and how all of life is bound together in a common plea to the Almighty: Lord, have mercy. Maybe this is what we preach, with the assurance that God gives consolation to help us through the terror with the divine mercy we've seen at work in the situation.

Once you've carefully assessed the rhetorical situation before you, comb scripture and tradition for what you are called to say. Though you will want to keep abreast of the news as it unfolds, careful not to spread any more misinformation, ultimately you are called to speak to the situation theologically--i.e. "God-word-ly." I am writing this on Wednesday morning. Who knows what the world will look like come Sunday. We may not know what tomorrow brings, as an old hymn sings, but we know who holds tomorrow, and the people in the pews are there because they want to know something of this God we know. That's where you come in.
Your liturgy is extremely important at this time. Ritual is comforting. The ancient cries, "Lord, have mercy," need to be prominent, and the prayers of intercession strong. Search prayer and worship books for more time-tested prayers and litanies. Funeral services' scripture passages need to be in abundance. Familiar hymns of assurance, such as "Be Still, My Soul," "O God, our Help in Ages Past," "A Mighty Fortress is our God," are important. Be aware of the movement of the service, careful to pull back at times from our grief to give us the ability to hear and reflect. Build more silence into the service and slow your speech down. People in shock cannot process information as quickly, and by Sunday we may still be in shock. We are held together at times like these in prayer, and people are in dire need of our vigilant prayers as well as the embodiment of our intercessions on their behalf. Think about and find out how your church can help, and organize something for people to do as an extension of worship--give blood, offer shelter, give money, volunteer.
Terror is nothing new to the Christian tradition. Search the prophetic texts for how Israel dealt with the terror of the Babylonian exile and wars in the past. Search the New Testament and church history for how terrorized Christians withstood torture, and draw strength from the blood of the martyrs. Be careful about naming evil in clear-cut terms. We are facing evil, but evil is tricky, hiding in shadows, often in disguise. The first part of any exorcism of evil is naming the demon, and we need to exercise caution not to demonize when we are all complicit Tuesday's evil. Surely now is the time to help us remember that we are a people who resist evil with the courage of love.
There's old homiletic wisdom proffered in African-American preaching circles: when you don't know what else to do, go to the cross. Not bad advice. One could preach a sermon describing the event of the cross in such a way that it sounds like Tuesday only to pull back to reveal the terror of the cross. Crucifixion is what the glorious Roman empire we grew to love in civics classes used to rule by fear. Then remind people that out of that symbol of terror that tortured and shattered the beautiful vision of God's shalom that Jesus embodied emerged the eternality of the Word of the Lord that remains forever--a word of hope and trust in the good that will ultimately prevail despite what evil may threaten to do to us. Mayor Rudolph Guiliani said it well on the Today show Wednesday when he said something like: "The most visible symbol of New York is not the World Trade Center, but the spirit of a free people." And the spirit of a free people bound only by the love of Christ-- not commerce nor military might--is what no terror can ever take from us, even though we be destroyed. For by the eternal love of God's power for shalom, holy spirit soars up from the jaws of death.
Dr. Teresa Lockhart Stricklen
Assistant Professor of Homiletics
Pittsburgh Theological Seminary


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